IF IT MATTERS
by Skye Van Alen
Summary: Bella ditches her boyfriend when he acts like a jerk when she tells him that they are going to have a baby. not broken down by this, she starts afresh in New York. Will her past haunt her? Or she can live in peace with her daughter?
1. Chapter 1

This is my first Twilight Fanfic, so guys kindly read and review and tell me if it's any good. xo CHAPTER 1 BPOV It was Saturday, and I had a day off, so I had no option but

to take Renesmee shopping. After all her birthday was

coming up and plus, Rose had said that she needed a few

essentials. If you'd consider a limited edition pair of Christian

Louboutins essentials! Well, that was not it; she needed to have the season's latest

all the time, even if it were lingerie for that matter, I mean

what does she need brand new lingerie every month for? Its

not like she's got a boyfriend or something, we're both

single, not so-happily though. Rose believes that her Prince

Charming would definitely come along, one day or another, he surely would. I'm not at all a romantic like her, well, not like I was born

with my not-so romantic mentality, its just that my life has a

tendency of being tragic more than romantic. And those

romantic dreams, I once had a shot at, are just too good to

be true. I don't know if there's anyone meant for me, Rose

thinks there is though I don't. I guess I lost him, years ago. I remember I was once reading Rapunzel to Renesmee,

when she looked up at me and asked, "Momma. Was

Rapunzel's hair as long as yours?" I smiled and answered, "No, sweetheart, it was longer and

much shinier and she was a blonde," thinking of Rose's long

blonde silky waves that cascaded down her back. "Like Aunt Rosie?" she asked innocently. "Yes, like Aunt Rosie, but much longer," I answered to her

dissatisfied curiosity. "A mile?" "No, sweetie, shorter than a mile, I think," I said, pretending

to think. "Oh, then it couldn't have been long enough," she said a

little smugly. "You want to hear the rest of the story or not?" I asked her,

tired from my constant ER shifts and wanting her to already

fall asleep so that I could get some rest. "Go on," she finally allowed. She was already sleepy by the time I reached the part where

the Prince leaves for the first time after meeting Rapunzel,

Renesmee's eyes were drooping, but she held back from her

sleep and said to me, as if she were some kind of seer or

prophet foretelling my fortune, "you know, a Prince will

come for you, too," and drifted off to meet her own Prince in her Barbie and Disney-made dreams. I wish, sweetie, but I don't think he would. It's just too late

now; I thought looking at the bedside clock and getting up

from Renesmee's bed. I switched off the lights and walked

off to my own room, and drifted off to sleep in my luxurious

Fifth Avenue apartment. A complete contrast from the home

I'd grown up in. "Bella. Bella, earth calling!" Rose's voice brought me back

form the dreamland I had momentarily lost myself in. I was

still in the lift with Rosalie. My colleague and my only best

friend in New York. Apart from her brother, Jasper. Dr. Rosalie Hale, my fellow resident at the hospital I work in,

a neurosurgeon. Ridiculously beautiful, blonde, tall and

everything I'm not. Ha-ha, bad joke! But still, when you look

at her, you know that she belongs more on a runway in Paris

or in Hollywood, attending red-carpet movie premiers rather

than at a hospital, doing late night shifts and critical brain surgeries. She has it all, beauty and brains. She's perfect, and

so is her life, except, well, for the lack of a boyfriend, or

soulmate, as she preferred to call it. "What happened, Bella? You fine? You look, distracted,"

Rosalie asked, her voice dripping with sisterly concern. "Nothing, Rose, just nightmares," I said shrugging the whole

thing off like it was no big deal. It wasn't. "The same one?" she said leaning to look at me. "Yeah, that only," I said looking away. "Bella, why don't you consult Jasper, he can help you know.

He's a psychiatrist for nothing. And he's good, you know. He

can really help you, and I'm not saying this because he's my

brother." Dr. Jasper Hale, the handsomest doctor you could've ever

imagined, he was shrink and a really good one. You could

tell that from the fact that people needed to take

appointments months in advance. Rose often joked that he

got patients because of his good looks and not his Yale

degree and skills. Well, she couldn't have been more right, he was skilled, no doubt but he was, blame the genes, as

gorgeous any male model could aspire to be, tall, lean and

blond. Soft spoken and with a flair fro knowing people's

psychological problems before they even told him, he was

one of the best! "I know, Rose, but seriously, I don't think I need any help, I

can handle this. I … I just need to stop thinking about him.

That's it, problem solved!" I said trying to reflect back some

of Rose's optimism and trying to make the whole thing look

easier than it actually was. "Yeah, and for that you need to date other guys, you know,

have a look around, and well consider the options." She said

smiling at me, as if dating would solve my problems. "Yeah, right. Why didn't I think of it before?" I said

sarcastically. "Aw, come on, you don't have to be so bitter, okay. You're

beautiful and you deserve someone who deserves to be with

you. By the way did you know that that new intern, what's

his name, Mickey? No? Michael, whatever. Mike, yes, Mike

likes you?" she said, her tone ringing with upcoming

laughter. "Yeah, but he's an intern, Rose!" I pointed out seriously. "I know that, duh! And don't worry I won't ask you to

consider him." "That's better," I nodded. "I would've if he didn't keep drooling all the time he saw

you," she saw with a hint of disgust. I chucked, walking out of the lift. "By the way, you want to go home first or straight to

Renesmee's school?" "School, I answered checking my pager. "Anything serious?" she asked getting into her car, a black

Porsche Carrera. "Nothing, really." I said getting into the passenger seat. The

interior of the car smelled fresh, the natural leather-y smell

and Rosalie's favorite smell, rose and patchouli with a hint of

musk. I breathed in; deeply inhaling the scent, whatever had

been bugging me earlier was suddenly no longer there on

my mind. When we reached the gates of Roosevelt Prep, Renesmee

was already waiting for us, with a short dark olive skinned

boy who was standing next to her. "Momma!" Renesmee called out loud, waving furiously at us.

"Aunt Rosie!" she said even before she saw Rose get out of

the car. "Hey, darling," Rose hugged her, kissing her lightly on the

cheek. "We're taking you birthday shopping." She told her,

and Renesmee's face lit up. In some matters, Renesmee's not at all like me, she loves

shopping, and I try to put off shopping unless it's for

groceries or something urgent. And my urgent doesn't cover

season's latest designer wear. "Hey, Jake," he say to the short boy next to her. "Hi, Ms. Swan," he said politely. "Hello, big man!" Rosalie turned her attention to Jacob and

after Jacob returned her hello she went back to Renesmee. "So, I'll see you tomorrow, Ness," Jacob said waving at a

Renesmee who was already walking towards the Porsche

with Rosalie. "Where's your mom, Jake?" I asked concerned, looking

around. "She had a board meeting or something, so she told me

already that she might be late," he said a little too maturely

for his age. "Want me to wait with you?" I offered. "No –" "Jake, come with us," Renesmee called out peeking through

the car's window. "Come with us," I said offering him my hand. "But mother, she'd be angry," he said. "No problem, kid, I'll leave a message at her office, you

know her number?" I called up Jake's mother Leah Black, the CEO of some Black &

Co. ranked 105th on the Forbes list of Fortune 500 and it

was no secret that she wanted it to be the numero uno. That

was why I most often than not found Jake waiting at the

gates of Roosevelt Prep for his mother to pick him up. I left a

message with her assistant that Jake was with us, his friend's mom and we would be at Bergdorf's. "Why doesn't she employ a nanny or an au pair?" Rosalie

hissed. "Poor kid, he has to wait all the day for her." "Mother doesn't think they do a good job," Jake offered an

excuse for his mother's incompetence. "Yeah, like she's doing any better at raising him, what kind

of a kid would he grow up into," Rosalie said, whispering so

that Jake won't hear. "We can't do anything, Rose," I said helplessly shrugging

remembering the instance when I had offered the same

solution to Leah Black and had been subject to her wrath. "You must be hungry, Jake" I asked looking at Jacob's sad

face while Rosalie and Renesmee played dress up in the

dressing rooms of Bergdorf's. "No, its fine –" he started but I cut him off holding out my

hand for him. "Come on, we'll get something to eat, okay," and started to

walk out of Bergdorf's while I typed a message explaining

our absence to Rosalie. "You want a burger, Jake? Or a taco?" I asked Jacob as soon

as we were outside the doors of Bergdorf's. "Can I have a hotdog?" Jacob asked hesitantly. "Yeah, of course you can," I smiled at him, hoping to put him

at ease. The hot dog vendor handed Jacob two hot dogs, made as

per his specifications. I wondered if Leah never allowed him

any street stuff for the fear of getting her tycoon-in-training

sick. God forbid, but, I wondered if Leah would sue me if

Jake got sick. A minute later, I and Jake were stuffing hot dogs hungrily

into our mouths and talking away. I felt sorry for the fact

that he couldn't have his mother here instead of me. But in a

manner of looking at the whole thing, she was building a

future for him. I had read about Jake's mother in last year's

November issue of Time, she was the Businesswoman of the Year. The article covered her rags-to-riches life story which

was surely more like a fairytale. Just too good to be true. She

had married her college boyfriend, some guy called Sam and

a year later, they had little Jake while Leah was still working

to build the foundations of Black empire. And a few months

later, Sam, Jake's father had died in a plane crash, right before their third marriage anniversary. My story was almost the same, except that my boyfriend got

a pregnancy scare and chose to stop talking to me

altogether rather than accepting his responsibilities of being

Renesmee's father. He wasn't really a jerk, no he wasn't. He was anything but a

perfect angel in human form; he was everything I could ever

ask for and all I'd ever need. All was well, until I got

pregnant with Renesmee and when I told him, he couldn't

decide how to react.

(Some guy's) POV I sat there, trying to relax while waiting for my sister to

finish shopping, I wondered what was it with women and

shopping, they were a package deal. Inseparable. Unlike her. Before I could stop myself I was thinking about her again, I

needed to stop. She didn't care anymore, why should I? Why

should I act like some lovestruck idiot who couldn't get over

his college girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend, I corrected myself. Alice is

right, I need to loosen up and let go. I should start dating.

Again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the new chapter, as promised. Hope you enjoy. **

**Thank you all for the awesome reviews, I'm glad you're excited, and I promise not to disappoint you. This story would be unlike any other. **

**I had to edit Bella's birth year so that the story would make sense, Renesmee turns six in 2011. And Bella will celebrate her 29****th**** birthday (born: 1982). And Renesmee was born in 2005. **

**xo**

CHAPTER 2

**BPOV**

The sun was setting, but the day wasn't over yet, at least not for me. I walked with Jake back towards the gleaming doors of Bergdorf's which I was sure were door to some kind of mystic land of Narnia. I mean the air in there smelled different, like everything was alright. Or it will be as soon as you walk out carrying their shopping bags filled with the ultimate designer must-haves. Sigh! The high life! I thought smiling at the US flag hanging above…

I remembered the time when Rosalie had taken me and Renesmee to Tiffany & Co. to shop for Renesmee's last birthday.

_**Flashback**_:

"When I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real life place that'd make me –"

"And the Oscar goes to – ROSALIE HALE!" I said as if I were really going to present her with one.

"Ohmigosh! Really?" Rosalie squealed with joy as if she'd really won an Oscar. She really was a pro at acting.

"Yeah," I said handing her my empty Starbucks cup. "But you can give your thanking speech after we're done, okay," I added just in case Rosalie wanted to launch into a real thanking speech for the imaginary award.

"Okay," she said making an adorable little pout making Renesmee laugh.

"Come on, darling; let's get you something wonderful," I had tried to persuade Rosalie to give up the idea of getting Renesmee something expensive but her stubbornness had overpowered mine and here I was, letting her do what she pleased.

"Rose, it's absolutely unnecessary, you know, she doesn't need –"

"Sweetheart, it is, she's turning five, you know, FIVE!" she said as if I didn't know what turning five was.

"I know five, okay. One – two – three – four – FIVE!" I said, letting my annoyance get on the surface. "She's just turning five, not sweet sixteen!" I defended my case.

"I know, but every girl should get something from Tiffany's on her birthday," Rosalie explained as if she were explaining about the benefits of a balanced diet for a healthy life.

I thought about my fifth birthday and tried to remember if I had had a trip to Tiffany's or not. NO, I'd surely not, I'd went on a trip to Museum with Charlie, my dad and Renée had baked my favorite apple pies and chocolate cake, with Granma Marie's special pancakes and vanilla ice-cream.

My dad, Charlie Swan, the only son of a photographer, Jack Swan and French model, Marie Descourtes, who came to New York for a fashion week in the fall of 1958, where she met a cute photography intern and fell madly in love with him, and well, the rest is history, they got married and lived together (happily, if not for the ever-after part!) Marie had to work as a waitress part-time to make the two ends meet, but they were in love, and the world didn't matter. They were happy, if not rich. In 1961, Marie got pregnant with my dad.

We weren't rich; we couldn't afford yearly trips to Tiffany & Co. even if it were for buying a charm that cost barely fifty dollars. Fifty dollars was too big an amount to waste it like that.

I looked at my daughter, happily browsing through the shiny, glass covered tops of the showcases, looking at each piece of jewelry and commenting like a Sotheby's expert who is verifying its authenticity. I smiled at her, thinking how lucky she was, I had grown up in Queens, the only daughter of a baker, Renée Dwyer-Swan (my mom ran a bakery with my mother in Brooklyn) and NYPD detective.

I was barely fourteen, when my dad was killed while negotiating a hostage situation in Bronx, and Granma Marie died of cervical cancer when I was sixteen (so forget sweet sixteen!). My birthdays made me feel sorry for myself and the way my life was, though now I had Renesmee I had some reason to be happy about. And with just two years into college, my mom was raped and murdered thereafter.

I was now an orphan, and that was the first time ever in my life I felt alone, like I needed someone to go to, but I didn't know who. My only friend, Seth Clearwater, whose father worked with dad at NYPD, had moved to the west coast when I left for college. I was all by myself.

And that was when I met him. Smart, witty, handsome, and loving, he was all I could ever ask for. Like in any Ashton Kutcher movie, we were instantly drawn to each other, things happened really fast even though we both tried hard to take it slow, but we couldn't. It was just emotions and hormones, and we let them take over our better judgment. We moved in together, knowing that was what we both wanted, everything was perfect.

Like it was some Taylor Swift song I was in, or a Hilary Duff movie. My reality was better than what anyone could've dreamt of; even Grace Kelly's life seemed like a morbid postmortem report rather than a fairytale compared to mine. We'd attend school during the day, come back in the evening, sit together in the balcony of our tiny apartment and talk about our day while eating sandwiches (the only thing I could make!), make love for a while and then study. It was perfect!

Before I could delve deeper into my memories, a voice called me back to reality.

"Bella!" someone called my name. A shiver ran down my spine when I put a name and a face to that voice. It was familiar, eerily familiar.

And boy, I was scared to hear it the ghost of my past. It wasn't one of my nightmares, it was real, in fading sunlight, I stood frozen with fear, everything, pain, hatred, regret rushing back to me in the same second. I knew I shouldn't turn, if I did – then that would be the biggest mistake! No, second biggest mistake of my life, I shouldn't turn. NO! I told myself sharply only to be betrayed by my heart.

I turned back to face him, standing just a few feet away, the distance he could physically cover in a matter of few seconds.

I could feel what my facial expressions must be showing, hatred mingled with pain and anger!

I looked at his face, for the first time in six years, it had changed somewhat in details but otherwise he was still his twenty-one year self, handsome and – I stopped the train of my thoughts at once.

I wanted to turn back and go, and never see him again but my feet refused to obey him, it was like they were frozen there, even in September.

I don't know for how long I stood there, looking at him, transfixed, not breaking my gaze. I wondered if a part of me was in love with him, I had moved, hadn't I? Started a new life, without him… then why?

** (Some guy's) POV**

I didn't know how to get the next words out of my mouth, she stood in front of me, though she wasn't running to me, she wasn't walking away either. It had to be a good sign. But I couldn't speak, it was like all those questions that had always been boiling in my for six years had somehow found their answers and had evaporated the moment I saw her.

And then I saw what she was trying to hide behind her flowy, knee-length sundress and a huge shoulder bag. It was a child, a boy.

Could it be?

It had to be, I couldn't see his face, but the way Bella was holding his hand had to mean something. He was my child. The child … the reason why.

I knew I had to act fast, it was now or never.

Now! I thought to myself and started walking towards her.

**BPOV**

He was walking towards me, as I saw that adrenaline shot into my veins as if it were some kind of threat approaching. Threat, yes, he was a threat. Threat to my life, to my daughter and me.

I didn't want him anymore than he wanted my child. I hated the way he was looking at me, as if I were some kind of object of dissection he needed to focus on. It wasn't just focus; it was something way too determined, it was scary whatever it was.

I had to escape. Run from him, or lose everything I had.

Before I could look around and hatch a quick escape plan a group of animal rights protestors came into view and within two seconds they were between him and me, shielding me from him. I took this as a cue and literally ran towards the door, which was only about ten feet from where I stood; dragging poor Jake along with me. He was staring around like I had suddenly gone crazy.

"Its okay, Jake," I said trying to calm myself more than him. "It's fine. Okay, relax now." I whispered to myself.

"Oh, there you are, Jake!" said and approaching Leah Black, all dressed in a grey business suit and now holding a couple of shopping bags, too. "You shouldn't keep mommy waiting for too long," she cooed at Jake, kneeling to hug him.

I hoped Rosalie would see this; it would at least make her realize that Leah didn't lack family values or skills when it came to raising kids.

"I'm sorry, mother," Jake said.

"It's okay, honey," Leah said, "You must be hungry, let's get you something to eat first."

"Okay," Jake didn't say anything about the hotdogs, so I was right.

"Thank you, Isabella," Leah said getting up.

"Its okay, Leah," I offered her a slight smile.

"Next time, don't let him eat more than one hotdogs," Leah whispered. I was suddenly ashamed of myself. My face grew red hot with the amount of blood pulsing through.

"Okay, see you around. Bye, Jake," I said trying to hide my embarrassment at being caught at wrongdoing, though I had done nothing wrong, there was something about Leah's stare that made me feel as if I was a ten year old caught eating too many candies.

I watched Leah and Jake leave and then went back to Rosalie and Renesmee.

"Hey, where's Jake?" Rosalie asked.

"Leah came and took him home," I explained sitting down on one of the couches.

"Where Renesmee by the way?" I asked looking for my daughter.

"Here's your little princess," a sweet but squeaky Tinkerbell-like voice boomed from nowhere, I looked around for the source to spot a short, pixie-esque women presenting Renesmee dressed in a fitted white tank top and a soft baby pink, tulle skirt.

"Turn around to show your new dress to your mom, darling," she told Renesmee and Renesmee, twirled around on one foot like a little ballerina.

"Beautiful," Rosalie said before me.

"Enchantee!" I said, voicing Granma Marie. She always said it whenever we went shopping; I often thought if it was to make me take some interest in shopping.

"Thanks a lot," I said to the girl. She was dressed in a strapless emerald green sundress, making the whole Tinkerbell appeal she had, even more realistic, well, except for the fact that she had short dark hair, which framed her small elfish face perfectly. Her pixie cut could inspire people more than Rihanna, I decided.

"Oh, you don't have to thank me," she said holding out her hand, "I'm Alice!"

"Bella!" I said taking her hand.

"Bella, your daughter is such an adorable little darling, I wish my daughter would be like her," she said too candidly for a stranger I'd just met shopping.

I didn't understand how shopping could bring women closer, that was one way girls bonded, dealt with heartbreaks and bad days and other stuff but seriously, how is it that people become best friends over their common love for Fendi and Chanel.

"Yeah, she is," I said stealing a glance at Renesmee, who was trying to pirouette again.

"You should send her for ballet classes," Alice suggested as she looked at her with admiration.

"Yeah, I guess," I agreed, wondering if she was going to outdo me in the dance and balance department as well. I was horrible when it came to balance; there was not a single day I didn't trip over something, however flat it may be. My days were incomplete without falling and tripping. Rosalie joked that I kept tripping because it was a sign that I needed someone to hold me. Though she said it like a joke and laughed at it herself, I knew there was a deeper meaning to her words than we both let on.

"Time to shop for the mother," Rosalie announced, clapping her hands together like she was hatching a MI6 conspiracy, not shopping for someone who was simply reluctant to shop.

And guess what the most horrible part of the day was, well, when Alice, Renesmee and Rosalie joined forces against me and started picking out five-hundred dollar dresses, trench coats, and five-inch heels for me. All I had to do was just try them on, as Rosalie had said.

Right, that should be easier than it seems, I thought changing into a yellow tribal print maxi dress, not bothering to read the tag, I didn't care if it was Stella McCartney of Marc Jacobs.

I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror, I looked good, indeed. Or maybe it was the lights; I had dark brown hair with a few red stands that showed up only when Rosalie dragged me along with her to her family vacations in Cape Cod and the Hamptons.

Yellow contrasted well with my dark brown eyes and hair and my already faint and fading tan.

"Oh, come out already," Rose said knocking the door impatiently.

"Just a second," I said combing my fingers through my hair.

"My momma, gorgeous," Renesmee exclaimed proudly making me smile. I didn't know what I'd do without her.

"This one's a keeper," Alice announced thrusting another dress in my hands, this one a white D&G halter dress. I sighed and went back inside, trying to be happy to be playing dress up.

After trying another two dozen dresses, Rosalie and Alice were finally content and decided it was time to leave.

"Hope to see you again," Alice said happily.

"Surely, I'd love to," Rosalie said hugging her, "here, keep my card," she offered Alice her card.

"You're a doctor," Alice said, surprised.

"A neurosurgeon," Renesmee corrected her politely.

"Right, darling, a neurosurgeon," Alice repeated, "and do invite me to your birthday, okay. I want my share of you birthday cake."

"Oh, you should come, Alice," I said.

"I will, if Renesmee invites me," she said.

"You have to come, Alice," Renesmee announced.

"I will, princess. After all, it's your birthday," Alice said happily as if it were her own birthday. I'd never seen someone be so enthusiastic about someone else's birthday…

Before Alice could say another word, her phone started playing Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake ballet, "excuse me, it's my brother, I have to go," she said glancing at the lighted screen.

"Bye," the three of us said at once, as she traipsed out of the door, holding a dozen shopping bags.

"I'm tired, let's go," I said, suddenly feeling nauseated.

"Yeah, let me get my bag, I left it upstairs," Rosalie said rushing back.

** (Some guy's) POV**

So she'd run away again.

She had escaped answering my questions once again, but before long she'd have to give me my answers. Why she'd done what she'd done? Why?

And I needed to meet my child, too. My child, the words filled me with strange warmth as I walked back to the café. I wanted my child. My boy. I wondered what she had told him about me.

I spent two hours debating and arguing with myself about everything that had happened six years ago, Bella, my child and me. I wanted to know what I had done wrong, why she had run away and why she wanted to hide from me.

Why?

"I'll never ever lie to you," she said caressing my cheek with her warm, soft palm.

"And why would that be?" I said, covering her hand with mind, building something that went deep; something went by the name of trust.

"Why would I lie to you?" she answered with one of her mysterious smiles, answering my question with another question.

I smiled at her wit and leaned down to kiss her.

You can't run away from me, Bella, you have to tell me… everything. And soon.

Maybe New York is a big city, but Manhattan is a small island. There's nowhere for you to hide.

I had a quick flash of idea and opened my MacBook Pro and typed into Google's search box "Isabella Swan" and clicked search.

**BPOV**

At night I lay in bed thinking about the events of this afternoon, he was here, in New York and as far as I remembered, he lived in Manhattan.

And Manhattan is a very small island, I thought, feeling unsafe suddenly. I had more careful now, especially when it came to Renesmee, I didn't know how she'd react, or what would happen if he realized who Renesmee is.

Suddenly I remembered that he hadn't seen Renesmee, he'd seen Jake with me. Well, I was hoping he hadn't but he wasn't that blind not to see a three feet tall kid standing next to a skinny girl, I mean I wasn't a gorilla or a kangaroo that could hide its offspring somehow, I was but a human and he must've seen.

Well, then that was some sort of relief if he was going to think of Jake as my child, his child, I almost winced at the words 'his child'. I really couldn't accept even the faintest idea of that impossibility being real.

I just hoped he hadn't seen Jake's face or I was going to be sued by Leah Black for exposing her child to life threatening situations. Or maybe she'll sure him and put restraining orders on him or something. I smiled wickedly and passed onto the land of Nod where my nightmares awaited me. As usual.

**So Renesmee's birthday is coming up and I want your ideas about how it should be celebrated. And how Jasper and Alice meet, that's going to something. And yeah, we are yet to meet Edward and Emmett. Well, maybe in the next chapter.**

**P.S. - I totally love Tiffany's and Audrey Hepburn and the Chronicles of Narnia. **

**And I love that he thinks Jake's his child, silly boy! LOL. And we got a flashback to Bella's past, about her family and love life. **

**Ten reviews to the next chapter, guys and do tell me what you expect. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry this chapter is really short and sort of draggy… and well, I couldn't decide how best to introduce the rest of the Cullens. Next chapter would be awesome. **

**BPOV**

It was already nine when I got up next morning, the alarm clock must have blared on for hours before falling into a sleepy silence of its own. I sat up staring at the sunlight streaming through the white lace curtains, flowing in light wind of the morning.

It was such a beautiful morning, and these mornings were one reason I loved New York. It was sweltering hot, nearly hundred degrees at the peak of summer and a minus twenty in biting cold winters with everything blanketed in a sheet of fluffy white snow. I liked watching Empire State Building rise from the horizon and touch the blue sky, like a giant shadow against the azure of the blue sea above.

I somehow managed to drag myself out of the Egyptian six-hundred thread count cotton sheets and walked out of the room, wondering if Renesmee was awake already.

When I peeked into her room, she was still fast asleep, unaware of this world, unaware that sun was out…

Sometimes I wondered if childhood was the best phase of life, I mean you had nothing to worry about except for Ms. Clair's math homework due Wednesday, or playing with your favorite toy. Being an adult sucked! Absolutely, get up, go for a job, earn your livelihood, take care of your home, your responsibilities and taxes and other adult stuff kids never had to worry about.

I wanted to be a kid again, or just escape my life, even if for a second.

But that wasn't going to happen, actually so I decided to wake up the adult in me and drag my lazy butt to kitchen.

I made a cup of coffee for myself and went back to my room. I checked my Blackberry and pager for any messages from the hospital. There were no messages, hopefully the new patient was fine, I thought as I checked the only message from Rosalie asking about plans for Renesmee's birthday.

I looked at the desk calendar, it was already 4th September, and Renesmee's birthday was only five days to go and I hadn't started planning anything. A bolt of pain shot through my head, almost tearing my head apart. It was an old sign that I was taking life too seriously.

As I massaged my temple, an idea shot through my head and the next second I was hitting speed dial 3, my hospital. After two rings, someone picked up the phone.

"Hello, Aaron," I said instantly before the receptionist could say a word.

"No, it's Brett," the voice replied. "Aaron is taking a day-off."

"Oh, okay, listen, Brett, its Dr. Swan here," I started the idea forming words. "If anyone calls up asking for me –"

"- should I direct them to you?" Brett asked enthusiastically. One of the disadvantages of being new… Brett was new, and worked as a receptionist only when Aaron wasn't there.

"No!" I said a bit harshly, "don't tell them about me, okay! Whatever they might claim to be." I told her thinking what excuses he might think of.

"Dr. Swan, are you okay?" her voice faltered a bit.

"I'm fine, just that someone's just – just trying to annoy me!" I said and regretted my words instantly.

"You mean a stalker, OMG!" Brett's voice was instantly full of excitement. Even in a hospital what can be better than a gossip. That too about the most stuck up doctor.

"No, it's a – a friend," I corrected, better than people starting to think that I had some psycho of an ex-boyfriend who was staking me. And such a thing was possible considering I was a single mother, but these sort of things happened only on soap operas. Not in real life, not in my life, I thought lapsing into a denial mode.

"Dr., are you sure everything's fine?" Brett asked, her voice reeking of fake concern and thirst for gossip.

"Yeah, everything's great," I said too quickly, or will be. Hopefully.

"Okay, Dr. Swan, I won't give you away," she said and I hung up after muttering a brief thank you.

I looked in the bathroom mirror and saw my brows still creased with worry, I tried to stretch them away but it was still there. I decided to have a bubble bath and the next second I was amazed at my thoughts, being with Rosalie was really rubbing off on me. Instead of my usual hot shower now I need a bubble bath. Next time I might just find myself checking into Elizabeth Arden Red Door Salon and getting a reverse French manicure done.

Cursing Rosalie I stepped into the shower and turned it on, and after two minutes I realized that I wasn't feeling any better. So I decide to switch back to the initial idea and prepared an exotic and sweet smelling bubble bath with all those little bottles and containers that usually lines my bathroom cupboard, thanks to Rosalie again which she won't think twice before picking up from the beautifully decorated shelves of Lush and The Body Shop while I continued to chastise her about buying something totally useless for me.

Now I'd have to thank her instead. I plugged my old iPod into a dock and let Debussy play as I stepped into the elaborate bathtub and tried to relax my overworked senses closing my eyes.

"Momma," I woke up to Renesmee calling out for me.

Damn, I had slept off in my bathtub, poor kid. She must be hungry I thought getting out of the bathtub as quick as I could without slipping on the dangerously smooth peach colored marble of the bathroom floor.

I grabbed my bathrobe and wrapped it around me quickly stepping into a pair of dry slippers. "Coming sweetie," I called out so that she won't worry.

Renesmee was used to waking up to find me gone, sometimes for night shifts and often for emergency ER shifts. Being a doctor was challenging but I wanted to do this, and I wanted Renesmee to have everything she could ever ask for.

Except maybe for a father, a tiny voice whispered form the back of my head. We don't need him, I tried to silence that voice of self-contradiction but I failed.

Thanks to my little Cleopatra treatment, I didn't have time to make pancakes I'd promised for breakfast last night so I prepared French toasts and scrambled eggs and set them on the granite island in the kitchen itself.

I read the paper while Renesmee ate he breakfast while watching some Barbie movie on DVD. We finished breakfast and sat down with my daughter about to ask her what she wanted to do for her birthday when my phone rang.

"I'll be right back," I told her and took the call.

"Hey, Rosalie," I said looking at the caller ID.

"Hey, Busy-bee!" Rosalie said, half-laughing, "morning!"

"Morning, Rose," I said.

"So I wanted to ask you what Renesmee wanted to do for her birthday," she was all-business.

"I don't know, maybe we'll take her out," I said having no idea what to do, yet.

"What does she want?"

"Haven't asked yet," I told her.

"Oh, do that quick then," she aid, "and by the way, I think we can go shopping, unlike you she actually likes it, like a real girl."

I stuck out my tongue at this, "whoever said you have to love shopping to be a real girl?" I objected.

"Whatever, I'm not arguing with you," she cut me out, "so I was thinking brunch, shopping and then eat out, and then we'll take the weekend off and take her out. As it is I don't have any emergency cases up this week, so I'm free."

"Okay, that sounds fine, great, I mean," I said correcting myself. Rosalie's plans were always great, if not epic, and fine didn't qualify as an adjective when it comes to Rosalie.

"And I'm inviting Alice as well," she told me.

"Alice? Who?" I couldn't remember anybody called Alice.

"Alice, don't you remember, Bella. Or have you got a case of retrograde amnesia? Alice!" she said as if it were one of her favorite fashion, but obscure (for me!) designers.

"I'm sorry, what were we talking about?" I said sarcastically.

"Bella!" Rosalie sighed at my acrimony. "Alice, the girl we met yesterday at Bergdorf's!"

"Oh, her," I said putting a face to the name finally, the brunette Tinkerbell like girl.

"Good thing you remember now, don't forget it again," she warned me.

"I won't," I promised.

"And ask Renesmee what she wants to do for her birthday, and if she wants to go out on the weekend get an idea of what kind of place she wants to go to," Rosalie instructed me.

"Okay."

"Okay then, I'll hang up, bye. And don't forget again," she said.

"Bye, don't forget what?"

"Alice!" Rosalie groaned.

"Oh, right. Yes, I won't. Alice. Bye!" I said hanging up.

**I haven't been able to write these days, busy with other stupid stuff called life! Update ASAP! **

**Please read and review! **


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

BACK TO DECEMBER…

**Finally, say hello to Edward and Emmett! Hope you like this chapter, and do read my other Twilight fanfiction "Lost & Found". **

**EPOV**

I sat on the black leather recliner in my room listening to Tchaikovsky's ballet compositions playing in Alice's room while she practiced in the ballet room for her next performance.

Dad wanted to get the room soundproofed but I had objected saying that it won't be that disturbing. It was peaceful, though I preferred Debussy or Beethoven to Tchaikovsky, it wasn't too bad either, considering that in Alice's every show, we had to tolerate the ballet music, so might as well get to used to it.

"Hey, Eddie boy, what you doing?" Emmett, my older brother said bursting into my room.

"Can't you ever knock?" I said closing my journal. Okay, no, I don't write, I used to, in college and while I was a geeky, shy high schooler. The navy leather bound sheet of recycled appear was the only thing I could talk to. Well, apart from my family. But it wasn't the same thing, Esme would always offer to solve the problem for me, or would try to keep me away from solving them the hard way. I wasn't bad, I didn't hate it. Except that I was always a rebel, but more like the boiling on the inside than letting it show types.

"What were you doing? Writing your diary?' Emmett asked wrinkling a nose at the closed leather journal. "What are you, a thirteen-year old chick?"

My face turned a dark shade of beetroot, "no!" I denied too defensively, "I was just reading the old entries," I explained.

For some reason this piqued his interest and before I could realize what was happening Emmett grabbed the journal off the table and flipped it open, I tried to make a grab for it before he could read it, but he put the book behind him.

"Emmett, give it back!" I said.

"Oh, come on, girly, just one page," Emmett said trying to read a random page.

"No, that's violating privacy," I said.

"Ooh, really?" he said making a face at me, "wait a second, I'm family. There's no hiding you dirty little secrets from me, Eddie boy!"

"No, Emmett, give it back!"

"Let me read it or I'll tell Alice, and then you can see for yourself what'll happen then," he threatened with an amused smile on his face.

"True, all models are bird-brained," I scowled sitting down on the chair. "But I get to decide what you can read."

"Oh, no! No! You don't get to negotiate," he said.

"That's unfair," I complained like I was ten again.

"Unfair, huh, wait until I call Alice," he said and started to call her. If Alice found out, I'd be good as dead, she won't stop until she knew everything inside out and what's more this was just one of the dozen journals I kept hidden, Emmett would read page, but Alice, she would dig them all out, even if I hid them in Tartarus.

"No, don't call her, you can read whatever you feel like, but just one page, okay," I said, "not a word one!"

And with this, Emmett sat down on my bed and started reading a page while I counted seconds as they passed, wondering which page he was reading. Not really caring about my secret being revealed but worrying over the fact that she won't be my secret any more…

I tapped my feet nervously, as my eyes drifted from the leather cover of the journal to Emmett's face, piqued with interest, and something different. Something that wasn't voyeurism, but concern. What was he reading?

It was almost thirty minutes by the time Emmett finished reading. I was surprised at his reading speed, was he really that slow or was he trying to read more than what I'd allowed him to read.

Emmett looked up from the book, his expression unreadable, and he just said three words, "tell me everything." It was not in his usual interfering 'tell me' but one of a brother who wanted to know what had really happened. I wondered if I was ready to tell him. Ready to tell anyone whose name wasn't Edward Cullen?

"Edward," he stressed, "tell me whatever happened."

"I'm not sure, Emmett, if I want to tell you everything, please understand," I said choosing every word carefully trying not to offend him.

"No excuses, you have to tell me, and if you don't tell me," he said, and I raised my eyebrows expecting the other condition. "I'm not giving you that option." He finished.

"Okay," I said at last, "but you can't tell this to anyone. No one. This is between us."

"Okay, shoot!"

**Flashback:**

College (December 2003)

I was wandering around the campus, doing perfectly nothing, with just my new DSLR camera and a pocket sketchbook I was roaming around, hoping to take a good photograph or two, for extra credit, though I didn't need it. But I liked photography, so anyway I had decided to take the classes for the fun of it.

It was close to twilight, the faint pink sky turning a purple grey, a beautiful color, but I had taken one too many shots of it, I was looking for something. Like that ancient oak tree behind the dorm, whose branches crept up to my second-floor window and cast eerie shadows at night time. In my freshman year, I often woke up at nights and couldn't go back to sleep, at that time I used to stare at the branches trying to make a pattern. Or during the finals week when sleep was the last thought on my mind, but first thing on body's priority list, I would stare at it, in the morning light, in afternoon, I had seen that tree for three years now, and still I knew there was more to it than the peeling bark and creepy branches.

I sat down on the grass, the earth was cold and hard and it was reaching me through the thin dry sheet of grass. It was soon going to start snowing and the grass I was sitting on was nowhere going to be seen, it would just disappear beneath, reminding me of Shelley's 'Ode to the West Wind'.

"_**If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?" **_

And that was when I saw her, sitting under a tree with her backpack lying next to her, leaning against the feet of a bench, her head tilted up, eyes probably closed. And I knew what my subject was going to be. I waited patiently for her to shift, as I clicked away her every movement, like a stalker, though I tired not to think of myself as a creepy stalker, but more like an artist who had finally found his muse.

Oh, she wasn't just beautiful, that would be insulting her, but she was a goddess, in every way. The way she hugged her knees to her chest, I wondered if she was cold, one hand absentmindedly lay on a thick book, she must be one of the medical students, I decided. Her other hand was now tangled in her dark brown hair, combing through the silky strands. I wondered why I hadn't seen her before today. Was she a freshman? But she seemed a bit old for a freshman, sophomore?

I clicked away the most beautiful pictures in the history of photography, and my muse, a girl who wasn't even aware of the fact. That's how masterpieces are made. In dim twilight, under the shadow of a huge oak, a mystery muse, I thought as I went through the pictures. I must show it to the girl rather than be sued for being a peeping-Tom!

I looked up, only to find her gone. There was no sign of her being there, even if for the last fifteen minutes I'd photographed her, I looked around, looking for a walking figure, but there was nothing, in the evening light dimming by the minute she had all but vanished, like that in thin air. Poof!

In my utter disappointment I went through the photos again, wondering if any of them had her face, but all of them were side-profiles, all against the horizon and her elegant movements.

Knowing that I wasn't going to find her again, I walked off to my dorm.

**So, no Bella in this part, and yeah weird, Edward keeps a diary. Next chapter is all about how Edward and his girlfriend first met! **

**P.S. Read and review, because I love them, thanks a lot to Esme Nicole Cullen and MissMartha. Love your reviews, and everyone who reads my stories. Thanks a ton. **


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

REMEMBERING YOU…

**Warning: expletives. **

**Here's a look at Edward's dorm-life at Dartmouth. And how he met that girl who turned his world upside-down. Any guesses who that is? **

…**.**

**EPOV**

I uploaded the pictures on my Mac and then started the photo editor, checking if any of the pictures needed touch-ups for bad light or something, but to my surprise they were all perfect! Like, bloody perfect.

Her beautiful pale skin contrasted in an intriguing way with the darkness of the twilight, a faint light of the west that was it; everywhere else it was dark, where it had not been illuminated by the divine light of her being.

I zoomed in as close as the photo editor and my camera's pixels allowed me to, looking for her identity, to give this unseen face, a name to get by, for now she could be _**Belle**_, my muse – meaning '_**beautiful'**_ in Italian.

I wondered what her real name was, Kelly? Jessica? Amanda? Bridgette? No, hope it wasn't Bridgette, it sounded too harsh for someone like her. Maybe, Alicia, but the name didn't suit her. I ran a list of all the names I could think of Lauren, Karen, Angela (this one seemed somewhat appropriate!), Madeleine, and a hundred more. Nothing befitting. It was as if I was Leonardo da Vinci and she was Mona Lisa, only I didn't know who my Mona Lisa was. I wanted to find out.

"'ssup, dude?" Felix, my roommate said bursting in. he reeked of too much beer and sweat.

"Nothing. How was the practice?" I asked.

"Great, coach said you bunk again and you'll be kicked out of the team." He said irritably.

"That'd be awesome!" I remarked.

"Dude, why are you doing this? We need you, okay, we can't win without you and you know that. Then why are you doing this to the team?" he said in a much gentler tone.

"I don't know," I shrugged irresponsibly.

"You know everything, okay, the reason why you're being a pompous jerk," Felix nearly shouted, "you think you're some stupid protagonist in a fucking Hollywood coming-of-age movie where you need to sort your fucking priorities out before you fucking die next month. Am I right?"

"No," I said a bit too quietly for someone replying to provocations, "That's not it, I just don't know. But anyways, while I figure this out, I'll come to the practice." I said wondering if it was the right thing to do. Maybe it was, for now.

"So heading home for Chrissy?" Felix asked, as if he were a five-year old.

"Chrissy, dude, grow up! Seriously, Chrissy! Fuck you!" I laughed.

"It's Chrissy, okay, get it!" he snorted.

"Whatever," I laughed.

"What's so funny?" Felix asked angrily.

"Nothing," I said trying to let go.

"Whatever," he yawned, "I'm leaving tomorrow, happy solitary confinement."

"You know this place is actually a better place to live without you." I said.

"Likewise, Cullen," he said pulling the sheets over his face. "Fuck yourself!"

"Likewise, Mezzini," I said with a smirk. Idiot, I thought getting back to my laptop.

I finished my pending assignments and after listening to _Midnite Vultures_, I went to sleep wondering who that girl might be.

….

Next morning was a blur as Felix's bulky frame scurried around the room trying to pack all his stuff (literally!) into a giant Jack Spade duffel bag. After an hour of sitting in my bed and smirking I decided to help him out, and it took me just fifteen minutes to throw all his stinking stuff into two duffel bags.

"Thanks, dude," Felix said, pounding a six pound fist on my shoulder.

"Always welcome, but for now, get the fuck out of here!" I smiled.

"Sure," Felix said before lugging the two huge bags and himself out of the room. The moment the door closed behind him I slumped back on my bed and looked around the room, suddenly it felt much better to be here, I didn't feel the need to go home anymore, but I had to. Though, not so soon.

I decided that I'd spend the day looking out for my _**Belle**_ as I put on layers of cashmere my sister and mother always bought for me and topped it with a trench coat and took my Canon along, just in case.

Thanks to the ghost of Mac Taylor and Horatio Caine possessing me, I thought it would be better to start searching from the place where I had seen her. That seemed like a good idea at the moment but when I looked around that lonely bench, next to that giant oak tree, there was no sign that anybody had ever been here. Everything was covered in a four-inch deep layer of fresh snow. I silently cursed the weather.

And pretty obvious I was neither a dog, nor a vampire that I could sniff her out of nowhere or wherever in the campus she was so I decided to spend the day picnicking on the bench. I dusted off the snow and took out my camera, taking photos like a maniac.

I spent three hours there on that cold metal bench, doing practically nothing but just taking photos of snow-white nothingness before it got too cold to bear and I had to escape to my room.

Back in the room my cell phone was buzzing with a call, I let it go to voicemail. A couple of seconds later I heard Alice's voice ringing out of the phone, "hey, Edward, it's me, come home soon, need you to decorate the Christmas tree. Miss you, bye."

I smiled mentally at her message and suddenly I found myself packing for New York as I booked a plane ticket.

….

Christmas was like another year, decorating the Christmas tree with everyone, eating the dinner and opening the gifts, it all passed in a blur and in a matter of what seemed like seconds I found myself back at the campus, practicing for seasons' last game and still looking out for _**Belle**_.

…

It was probably the last game of the season, if we lost and our key to the semis if won. The odds of winning against Yale were thin but we had to. And my apparent lack of commitment would be a red mark on my life's report card if we lost today; we had to win, no matter what happened tonight. It was do or die…

No, do and then die, according to Coach Austen. It was my last chance to redeem myself in the eyes of my team, and coach though redemption was the last thing I cared about.

I had practically tuned myself out during the pep-rally before the game by plugging in my iPod at full volume, I stood against my locker, staring at the sticker with my name on it in bold, "E. Cullen". Soccer, was a family thing, my father, Carlisle Cullen, an alumni of Dartmouth had led us to victory three years in a row, my older brother, who had graduated form college only last year, had played for Columbia. So technically, it was a family thing, I was supposed to and I had to play, and win to keep up the family's traditions.

I thought about the day my mother, Elizabeth Hayden-Masen, divorced my father, Edward Masen Sr. (who later died when I was two) and married Carlisle, and then after a year or two divorced him as well, and ran off with that boy toy of hers, some Arabian sheikh leaving me and my older brother Emmett, who was five then, all by ourselves. For three days we stayed in our mother's apartment, feeding on leftovers, and on the weekend Carlisle turned up, he and mom had had a deal that we could visit us on the weekends and apparently our mother, all too glad to get rid of us, if only for the weekend had complied.

He was shocked to see us like that and took us with him, to his new home and his new wife, Esme, who turned out to be more of a mother than my real mother could ever be.

A few months after we moved in with dad, one day we were old that my mother and her boyfriend died in a plane crash, Esme held me and Emmett close to her, lest we cried but none of us did, we didn't know who she was, so there was nothing to mourn. You can't mourn someone who doesn't exist. I was four then, and soon after my biological father too passed away. After that day, Esme and Carlisle were my parents; they adopted us, and a year later Esme gave birth to my little sister, Alice. Its been years since then but I still remember it all very clearly as if it were this morning it had all happened, all those family vacations, being treated like a real family, taught the Cullen family traditions and being a Cullen. I felt obliged to do this, for my family. For my father.

A hard poke in my arm brought me back to the locker-room reality. I took out the earphones, sensing I was in trouble.

"Has Eminem got a better advice, Cullen?" Coach Austen billowed in his huffy voice. "Pay attention when I say something, I'm not a useless mutt barking at nothing."

"Sorry, Coach," I muttered.

"Sorry? You'll be sorry if we lose the match!" he barked, "so get your sorry ass out there and help us beat 'em tonight or you'll be sorrier than you've ever been in your whole sorry life!"

My Lord, why was he stuck on 'sorry' today?

As Coach Austen blew his whistle the whole team rushed out into the field, the whistle blow a mere whisper compared to the din of the people sitting in the bleachers. Yale vs. Dartmouth, season's most important match, we win – semis, we lose, I'm gong to be sorry. Sorrier than I ever had been in my life. I repeated my own words to myself do or die, Cullen.

It's now, or never.

…

**Had a difficult time in real life, wonder why it sucks to be a human. When I first read Twilight, I decided I wanted to be a vampire if that was the only thing I could ever be, because as a vampire life sucks but you have the choice to run away, and an eternity of boredom isn't too big.**

**But never mind read this awesome chapter and review, please. And I love your reviews. **

**xoxo**

**P.S. please review. And I need fifteen more reviews to the next chapter. **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Bella**

Life is strange; we never know what might happen, or who we might meet on the corner of the street where we live. Bella knew that to be true, her life hadn't been the same ever since she'd met him again. It was extremely unlikely. The rarest event of her life, in a city as big as New York, she had to meet him, of all the people she could have.

She wanted to pass it off as another occasional over-thinking but it was difficult, the possibilities of the worst happening were too high to ignore, I was scared. Scared to lose Renesmee, he didn't know about her yet. But soon enough he will, she knew that he was too good at tracking down the object of his obsession, and right now by spurning him, she was inviting home the inevitable. In her wild imaginations, she could see him sending PIs to keep an eye on her. It was getting difficult for her not be paranoid.

But then he had left her to be alone with Renesmee, when she was only three weeks pregnant, it was a night Bella would never forget. It was her worst memory, that haunted her again and again when she used to see single mothers delivering a baby at her hospital, even though that was not her department. It made her sad to think that there were so many men like him, who simply fuck you and leave you, only variation is that they might or they might tell you that they love you before they fuck you, or they might be too gentlemanly to seem that type who would do such an unforgivable thing as to leave their unborn baby alone after saying that they never will, Jasper often told us about those women, most of them had made their choices, but then had it not been for those douchebags they would have never had to make this choice.

She wanted to know what he was doing, what he was thinking, wishing desperately that she could read his mind, the first question being whether or not he had seen Renesmee or not that day outside Bergdorf's before they had finally left.

**Edward**

I didn't want to resort to the worst means to find my child, but there was no other option, I had to know him, I had to know her again, how she was, everything. I still looked back and wondered what had gone wrong, even after accepting Bella's accidental pregnancy, and her unborn child, where was his mistake in all this.

He had left that weekend only to buy an engagement ring for her, he remembered how happy he was while he browsed through the beautiful solitaires at Harry Winston. He was going to marry the woman he loved, the woman who was the best person he had ever come across in this entire universe, even if the analogy is too much of an exaggeration. He loved her, he gushed like an infatuated teenage boy.

But then there was no other way.

After much deliberation over ethics, he typed in two words: "Isabella Swan" in to the search engine and clicked enter and within seconds the page was flooded with Isabella Swan's from across the world, there were twenty in the city itself – even then it did not take him long to find the one he had been looking for. It even had her designation and address,

Dr. Isabella Swan,

MD, Neurology,

#729, 7th Avenue, 4th floor.

New York, NY 10019

He wondered if it would be appropriate to show up at her house and help himself, no, that wasn't right. He had to think of something better, more natural. His head had started hurting from all the thinking, the effect of three mugs of coffee has run off. He wondered if it was because of that age-old injury sometimes, He had even gotten it checked, scans and MRIs, you name it, yet, his head hurt a lot of times, from no evident reason. Though, this time, it was nothing, only dehydration as he got up to fetch a glass of water from the bedside table. He was gulping down the water when suddenly a brilliant idea came to him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Bella**

He showed up at the hospital, she couldn't believe it at all. He had the audacity to do that, and hell, for what reason, that stupid baseball injury that had happened almost a decade back. For a moment she wondered it was genuinely that bad, but then she had seen worse cases in her career. While she was a doing her masters at Columbia, while practicing and even at Dartmouth. She remembered the white haired doctor writing a remark on his file, nothing severe, just a minor concussion, might have slight trauma afterwards. It was unlikely that he would have to seek a neurologist's advice on this sort of an injury. There had been no signs of possible haemorrhage.

Luckily enough, she didn't have to treat him, he had been sent to Rose for his diagnosis who had written down a list of scans before she said anything.

"Bella?" Rosalie's voice brought her back to the reality. "What are you thinking?" she said giving Bella a concerned look.

"Uh, nothing. Nothing at all," I shook my head and concentrated on the actions of the fork and the spoon on the quarter plate.

"Hey, are you worried about that patient?" Rosalie asked, "I know you are compassionate towards your patients, but it's okay, this chap probably has nothing to worry about, he'll live on to marry the love of his life, and have many kids and die when he is at least a century old." Rosalie filled the conversation with her dreams of a happily ever after, which she thought that everybody deserved.

Bella wondered about her words, if she felt some amount of compassion towards him even for a moment, just overcome by the professionalism. But then, doctors were not supposed to be emotional, it was against the profession, they were allowed compassion, they were allowed concern, but any sort of attachment, newfound, old, whatsoever, even a flickering one was not allowed. It could destroy them, and their entire profession of a doctor.

She no longer felt hungry; it was as if she was too full, despite the fact that she was having an early brunch with Rose and she had skipped dinner last night. This strange revelation had killed her appetite. There was a part of her that wanted to see those scans and Edward and know for herself that he was doing fine, that there was nothing really to worry about. It was more of a professional thing, she tried to explain to herself… and then there was a part of her that warned her against it. Last time, he'd shown up at her hospital, she'd winded up getting pregnant and ditched by him. God knows how it'll turn out this time.

But since he had shown up at the hospital, it was going to be a little difficult avoiding him. But, that was the least of her concerns; she was worried about her child. And what could happen if Edward met her.

**Rosalie**

The bronze haired guy sat right in front of me, strangely calm for someone who had come to a neurologist for the diagnosis of his old head injuries, it was really funny and unnerving at the same time. As if he was sure that there was nothing wrong with him. She directed her attention back to the scans and the reports, there was indeed nothing.

"Mr Cullen," she started, "you have nothing to worry about, all is good from what I can see from your scans."

"Are you sure, doctor?" he asked. Was he questioning her skills as a doctor? Rosalie was miffed by his nonchalance.

"Yes, Mr Cullen, there is nothing to worry about," she affirmed her statement.

"Then it's a great news," he just changed his facial expression by the corner of his lips turning upwards in a menacing smile. "But if there's a persisting headache?"

"Then you can come back, we'll be happy to treat you," Rosalie said in a very non-doctor-like tone. She was already annoyed.

"Thank you, Dr Hale," he said, getting up from his chair as he extended his hand towards her. She shook it, "we're here to care," Rosalie voiced a cheesy hospital commercial. Within two seconds the annoying guy was out of her office, and she was glad.

Her pager beeped, it was a message from Bella. She needed to see her for a moment. Rosalie opened the door and got out of her office, only to see Bella standing in front of her, five seconds away from knocking at the door.

"Hey, Bella, all okay?" she asked.

"I just remembered, I have a PTA meet to attend at school," she said.

"Oh, damn!"

"Yeah, I've told Dr Branson, he knows about it, and in case of any emergencies he's told you to fill in for me for the next three hours. Would that be okay with you?" Bella said it all very fast.

"Perfectly fine," Rosalie said, keeping a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'll take care of that. You have fun at school."

"Thanks a ton, Rose," Bella quickly hugged her and left.

**Edward**

He had been sipping on his fifth black coffee of the day, standing outside Dr Hale's office. He knew that dehydration was to blame for his headaches and not some old baseball injury. He smiled as he heard her and Bella talk about a PTA meet at a school. This was the perfect opportunity. He could just pretend to be there for some donation to the school on behalf of his father and confront Bella and finally meet his son. He thought as he followed her to the parking trying to not be seen.

He threw the remains of the coffee in the dumpster in the parking and got into the car he had borrowed from Emmett, a black Volkswagen Jetta, and followed Bella who got into a black Lincoln town car and drove out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Edward**

He sat in his car, patient as he waited for her to get out of the car. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of the car. It was probably what seemed like eons later that Bella came out of the car, pulling over her jacket and placing a huge shoulder bag on her left arm as she locked the car and headed towards the gate of the school.

He waited for her to disappear inside the school premises before he got out and started walking in the same direction as her. He could not have been more excited or happy or tensed, he was finally going to meet him, his son. He also knew that no matter what he said to Bella, she would never let him meet the child, so he would have to do this as discreetly as possible.

He saw her entering a class on the left, he followed but did not enter, he stood next to one of the windows that were on the back of the class so that she wouldn't spot him.

He decided it would be better to simply watch from a distance rather than risk being seen by her, she hadn't responded warmly to her as such, so he didn't want to get too close even when he had every right to do so. After all, it was his child, too, a child he wasn't told about.

His patience paid off when he saw her standing with a small dark haired boy, and every part of him jumped with excitement. His son. He didn't have those fatherly dreams of teaching him soccer or basketball, or going to school games, maybe send him for piano classes, help him with homework even, but at this moment he wanted to be there. Stand there with Bella, and talk to his child, carry him in his arms, play with him, talk, his dreams were just starting. He was happy beyond belief. He had never known this kind of joy, probably this was what a mother felt…

**Bella**

She felt like a genius, she smiled so broadly that she could've probably counted her teeth in a mirror. She could still feel him watching, and while he was at it, it wasn't safe to walk over to Rosalie. She bent down and hugged little Jacob. As usual, Leah wasn't here, and as a part of an unspoken agreement she played her part at the parent teacher meetings. She spoke to Jacob for a while, then took his hand, and walked inside the classroom.

She hoped that he'd be gone by the time she got out.

She came out ten minutes later, after having spoken to Renesmee's teachers. She wondered why they even bothered, she was an exceptional child – through and through. Good at everything. She was stroking Renesmee's soft chocolate brown hair while her teacher Ms Felds gushed about how amazing she was.

When she came out, she looked around for any signs of Edward's car. There was only one white Ford in sight, breathing easy she got into her car and left along with Renesmee and Jacob driving to the nearest ice-cream parlor.

**Edward**

It was strange, but somehow he just wanted to go over and meet his son. And if asked he could just say that he was looking for another address.. oh, hell, why did he even have to lie. He could just go there, ring the doorbell, and ask whosoever opened the door to let him meet his son.

Another hour of conflict passed, and there was no knowing what he should he really do. It wasn't fair to go show up on her door without even talking first, even though there was barely any point reasoning with someone who could be as stubborn as she. He remembered one of those times when they'd try to figure out what to order and if she got hell bent on ordering Chinese, no matter what, not even the fact that she hated everything the Chinese cuisine had to offer would move her. She would order Chinese, eat two bites and then force him to eat the entire thing, which he did with a smile pasted on his face. He loved her so much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Bella**

She didn't want to go really, but then she had no choice, it was an emergency. It was her duty. Even though she'd promised Renesmee to sit and watch her favorite cartoon movies with her, half an hour into one of those from Disney Renesmee had fallen asleep with a tub of Ben and Jerry in her lap and her phone had started vibrating. It was from the hospital stating it was an emergency and she would be required in an hour. Enough time to put Renesmee to sleep and call the au pair she'd given a day off. The girl could take fifty dollars for it, in exchange for calling her in the middle of a date with some college boy.

Lissa, the au pair showed up after half an hour, giggling, her hair rumpled despite an attempt to make it look like it had been before. Guess the date had gone all too well, Bella smiled, thinking of all that follows a good date. She tried to remember her last good date, it wasn't a surprise that she couldn't remember even one. It wasn't really her fault, after renesmee's birth, her time had been divided between raising a baby and attending classes and the remaining time was spent either in finishing her school work or trying to catch up with her sleep schedule. Her most prominent grocery item was coffee, that's how she'd survived. After three years, coffee has almost become ineffective before she went for a detox. All this never gave her time to date or even think about it. It wasn't like she had any dearth of askouts. She got hit on all the time, even now, being a mother and all. There was this guy, son of one of her patient's, and then one of Renesmee's classmates dad, and then one of her colleagues, one of Rosalie's friends. She wondered when was the last time she'd kissed a guy. Eight years, she knew the answer very correctly and even the circumstances.

"Hey, love," Edward called out as she entered the living room. She didn't reply but just threw the handbag and the books on the side table and went to the kitchen and took out a bottle of water and gulped it all down. She didn't know what it really was, the heat or the nausea of this kind of secrecy. She just headed for the bed room straight and curled up on the bed. After ten minutes, Edward followed her in and sat down on the floor next to her. "Bella, are you okay, honey?" he asked stroking her hair.

She muffled a nod, while her face was still buried in the pillow. He continued to stroke her hair, so gently that had it not been for what she knew, she'd have fallen asleep by now. Her father used to put her to sleep like that when she was little and before he got himself killed while taking care of a hostage situation. She couldn't bear it any more, she turned to face Edward. He was looking at her with so much tenderness that her heart felt torn with the intensity of it. It was too much to hide something from someone who loved you this much. It didn't matter how unwelcome this might be.

"Edward." She whispered carefully.

"Yes."

It took every bit of courage she had to say the next few words. "I'm pregnant."

It was in that moment that everything froze, the world stood still, time stopped with the sound of her last word. She didn't dare say another syllable. They sat like that for god knows how long, in that room, right where they were. Edward on the floor, his hands on the side of the bed and she lying a few inches away from him.

"You're pregnant," Edward finally spoke. Bella nodded.

"What do you want to do about it?" he asked, but there was something that told her that this wasn't really a question, it was a life choice. "You know like raise it, give it away – it can be given into adoption even, or you know –"

Bella didn't want to hear the you know, even though she knew what it was. Her maternal instincts pushed through her confusion and she knew what she wanted. Edward's hands had been covering hers by now, without her realizing it, she slowly it slid it out from under his and clasped both her hands together. "I want the baby." She spoke.

He sat there for a minute, still quiet and then spoke – "I want whatever you want. Let's raise the child." His eagerness came as a shock but then that's how Edward was, eager. He would decide something in a moment and that's how it was. He cupped her face and kissed her forehead and then looked her in the eyes. "I love you, and this child, too, now. It's a part of us. I want to be with you, and I want us to raise the child. Together."

Bella nodded, she didn't remember the lucky moment her tragedy struck life had stumbled upon the lucky moment when she'd found Edward. She felt outrageously lucky.

And then he kissed her life never before, it held love, and passion but also a promise, and warmth of safety, she kissed him back with a promise equally sincere, and we'll all live happily ever after, she thought happily. After that they made love and lay in each other's arms for hours before ordering lasagna from Bella's favorite restaurant and ate it with Coca-Cola in bed.

After that they just slept off, in each other's arms, when Bella woke up in the middle of the night she found his hand on her belly, she smiled at the warmth that was being exuded and went back to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Edward

One thing had always plagued his mind, and that mystery had fed on his conscience for eight years, if not to meet his son, he should at least know why she did that. Take off with the child, three months before the due date. It was strange, not knowing why. Hell, it was terrible. He just didn't know.

He'd racked his brains all these years to know what was it that he'd done to scare her off, so much that she left without a word, an explanation, hell, even a note to say goodbye, I'm leaving. Anything. He had replayed the day before so many times… they had both been so happy. They'd gone for pre-natal classes that Alice had suggested Bella take, he was even planning on proposing to her after the baby was delivered. When he told Alice, she was so excited, she had even suggested that the baby be the ring-bearer. He was so happy, he'd even picked out a ring at Harry Winston, and bought it. He still had it somewhere at the back of his closet. He wanted to know why?

He deserved it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

There was an ominous feeling in the air, like something was going to happen. Something bad. She got out of the car and rushed towards the elevator and pressed the button for nineteenth floor. But before the elevator door could close someone put a feet between them and they slid open.

The moment she looked at the face of the new entrant to the elevator, her mouth went dry. She could somehow feel the tension thicken the air, so much that you could cut it into slices.

"I need to know why?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry I don't know what you're talking about." She shook her head with frustration.

"You know what."

"I don't have time for all this." She waved her watch in front of him. "Please, someone up there needs me right now."

_And I need you, too_. "I need you to answer me," he said.

"I don't know anything –" she was extremely defensive.

"You haven't heard the question, love," he said, his voice strangely grave and sexy at the same time. She felt her body react the same way it had all those years ago. A sharp chill went up her spine, almost numbing her brain in the most crippling of ways, she could no longer think. She simply gaped at his face.

"Please, Bella, we should talk," he softened. She managed a nod, if she had to protect herself and not lose her daughter she needed to be in a better position and not so vulnerable to Edward and his charms and whatever effect he just had on her. She didn't want to be 21 and in love again. The nod, seemed to calm him, his posture eased, he moved back, "let's sit somewhere and talk."

It was not an offer, she complied.

"Can I at least attend my patient first?"

"Yes, sure."

An hour and ten minutes later they were sitting in the tiny coffee shop, one block away from the hospital. A quaint little place, with a few customers, some working on their laptops. Three yards away there was a couple bickering over their wedding guest list.

"So, what is it?" Bella finally broke the silence that had persisted since the barista took their orders, one chai latte and one black coffee, no sugar.

He had pictured this in his a lot of times over the last few days, but now that he was down to it, he didn't know what to say anymore. Every opening line that he'd planned seemed to fail him, or too rude. So what if she had taken off? He felt betrayed but, he hadn't tried looking for her much either, he'd given up after a while, despite the fact that his PI had tracked down Bella and the baby in her humble studio apartment in New York, he hadn't tried to contact her. He had no right to ask any questions. He didn't deserve the answers.

"How've you been?"

"I'm – I – I've been good, fine, I mean good." She wondered if she should let her guards down or not, the question she'd been expecting did not come.

"Yeah, you look good. You've not changed a bit," he smiled at her. Scolding himself for not asking, and wanting to ask her about his child at the same time.

"Neither have you," it was like one of those awkward meeting of ex-lovers after a decade, straight out of some Hollywood movie. General courtesies and pleasantries, no courage to stop beating around the bush and just say what they've been wanting.

To save herself the trouble of having to say the next sentence, Bella picked up her cup of chai latte and took a sip, _too hot_¸ she winced at the fact that she had burnt the tip of her tongue. That's what happens to liars, her mother used to say. She simply pretended to take the next sip, just so she didn't have to talk.

"So, I wanted to ask you, - I mean, the last time I saw you – Bella, don't be offended, please, but I really want to know – about – our – baby."

Bella looked up from her cup to see Edward's face, filled with intense impatience and something else, like someone who'd been deprived of everything in his life – he looked stricken and pale, he seemed ten years older than his twenty eight.

**Edward**

"I cannot tell her right now, I can't tell her something like this. At least not now. I guess we should wait until the delivery. I'm not sure how she'd take it. Plus, I'm not sure about it myself, if I'm ready to take such a big step or not." He talked too fast, mostly out of excitement than nervousness.

"Calm the hell down, bro," Emmett said. "You're proposing and not going to join the Army."

"It pretty much feels the same, you know, I don't want her to feel as if I'm doing this out of obligation."

"Aren't you?"

"No. I want to bring the child into a proper family, I want to be responsible for them both. It's out of love and not the need to make it more acceptable socially."

**It's been too long, but this time, I promise that I'll finish this story. **

**XO**


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